#this is a joke BUT the core argument here is that lord of the flies remakes are missing one main ingredient and that is the imagined enemy

[casiavium]

things that all-girl lord of the flies inspired fiction like yellowjackets and beauty queens fail to achieve is the fact that in the original the boys who started all the chaos were in choir. I truly believe that all that happened simply because they were stuck there with theater kids

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Toxicity At It's Finest, Reader x Draco Malfoy

"I've been holdin' my breath, I've been countin' to ten, over somethin' you said..."

The weather is a mirror to the emotions swirling through the air.

Thunder shatters the silence, roaring just above the manor. Lightning splits the skies, the blue light flashing across both of your faces, seemingly accentuating the flaming anger of his clenched jaw and fiercely glaring ice blue eyes. Rain drops, big and heavy as hail, pounds the windows in earnest.

You can't believe what had spewed from his mouth, and the sting is worse than as if you've been slapped in the face. You take a deep, shuddering breath, and choose your next words carefully, as your voice breaks and you choke back a sob.

"... Alright,"

Now it's his turn to look as if he's been slapped. You don't miss the shock on his face, but you continue anyways, feeling as if it's for the best.

"I'll go."

You turn on your heels and run for the stairs, scared to stay a moment longer, lest he talk you out of it.

Though blinded by tears, you don't miss a single step, and you reach your shared bedroom without making any more of a fool out of yourself. The door slams shut behind you, and the sound echoes through the mansion, as if trying to voice your determination for you. Still, you finally let the tears flow freely and you scream out in devastation as you back against the door and slide down to the marble floors.

You had finally had enough. After twelve long years of staying by Draco's side through his ridiculous bi-polar emotional episodes and abuse, through his breakdowns from the abuse of his father, through his cheating on you with that disgusting pug Pansy Parkinson, through his suicidal pact with the Dark Lord, and almost dying for him in the Battle of Hogwarts, you had finally had enough.

"I've been holdin' back tears, while you're throwin' back beers and I'm alone in bed..."

These kind of fights were not uncommon while Draco drank back his pain and sorrow, but it used to end in the two of you coming together in the heat of the argument to say your apologies through some sort of carnal physical activity, since neither you nor Draco were ever ones to voice your feelings in the lovey-dovey chit-chat sort of ways. But for the past eighteen months, there had been no apologies at all, carnal or otherwise. Things had steadily been getting more and more aggressive and tense between the two of you, spiralling out of control as Draco drank more and more often. He often would try to find any reason to start and argument, almost as if trying to distance himself from you. You, on the other hand, had simply taken everything in stride for the first few months, knowing that one of the consequences of being committed to the Malfpy Heir was his rollercoaster of emotions and admittedly vindictive and toxic nature whenever he was caught in a downward slope.

But things were different this time. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and no matter how often you tried to break through his wall and try to get him to open up to you again; to become the soft, sweet yet damaged boy that you knew was behind the façade, he wouldn't crack.

You had even tried to break through with seduction, as it was a last-resort that you had used more than once before. You had even donned his favorite lingerie; an emerald green and black sheer lace set with a black sheer lace kimono. You had cornered him while he was in his father's old study, hunched over some sort of paperwork with his hands stuffed into his silky, platinum hair. You had approached quietly, draping yourself over his shoulders and kissing his ear while you whispered a breathy,

"Draco, come play..."

into his ear.

And the bastard had the audacity to take one sideways glance at you and scoff, looking back to the papers and muttering something snide under his breath about having no time for games.

More and more layers of wall went up with every brick you had managed to scrape off in the past, and it had finally come to a peak.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change... Guess that's why, we stayed the same..."

Even the beginning of the fight had been strange. Usually the arguments you two had were over something real, something serious. Whether it be you, trying to help him break away from his carefully sculpted mask of anger and spite that had been constructed over the years and getting blind-sided with some vindictive comment by the character he had forged; or by said character being a few too many butterbeers in and trying to deconstruct you for something extremely irrelevant and simple, like doing the dishes by hand instead of instructing the house elves to do them, there was a predictable pattern to his emotional explosions.

This time had been different.

You were simply lounging by the fire, delving deep into your favorite muggle-writen novel, when he had appeared before you. You couldn't exactly remember what had happened at first, only that he had torn the book from your hands and thrown it into the roaring fireplace. The next thing you can recall, he's pushing you back against the black leather couch, forcing his mouth and body upon you as if he hadn't been completely depriving you for over a year, as if he hadn't brushed off your advances and let you cry yourself to sleep alone in the bed you had once shared for over a year.

So you did what any sane woman would do: You slapped him and shoved him off of you, hollering over your lost novel and his shitty advance.

"You must be joking?!" You had screamed, standing over him as he clutched his face in pain and looked up at you with liquor-glazed eyes wide in apparent shock.

The shock didn't last long, though.

You don't know if he actually hit you, because everything happened so quickly, but your recollection counts you on the floor, and him above you, screaming profanities in your face as spit flies from his mouth while he roars at you through clenched teeth. You've never been one to back down though, and you remember quickly finding your feet and shoving him backwards into the coffee table, almost tripping him as you scream back profanities that would make an Irish sailor blush.

Things escalated so quickly, you can't remember exactly what each of you said, you just remember how bad each word hurt. Whether you were receiving or dishing them out, each word split your heart into tinier pieces, syllable by syllable. The last thing you remember was what ended the argument and sent you flying up the stairs.

"So tell me to leave. I'll pack my bags, get on the road..."

"So why don't you just tell me to fucking leave?! Why the fuck are we still doing this?! Why waste either of our time anymore?! I don't fucking deserve this!! You've been playing fucking games with me since the first day we fucking met, you don't fucking love me, you barely love yourself!!"

"Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

You had regretted the words instantly, for they had sobered you of the outright rage that had blinded you for however long the fight had been going for. Draco, however, had no sobering experience. No, your analysis of his drinking and abuse had simply proved to anger him further, and he screamed the six words that shattered your world to the core.

"THEN GET THE BLOODY HELL OUT, YOU HALF-BREED WHORE!! YOU'RE BARELY WORTH MY TIME, I COULD FIND TEN WOMEN WHO WOULD LOVE ME BETTER!! AND THEY'LL ALL KNOW THEIR BLOODY PLACE, TOO!!"

"Feels like a lifetime, just tryna get by, while we're dying inside. I've done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one, but I can't move on..."

Silence ensued between the two of you, even though it was swallowed by the crack of the thunder above your heads and the deafening pounding of the large raindrops on the roof.

And this is what brought you here, locked away in your once shared bedroom, crying your soul out in rivers as you packed what mattered as quickly as possible, not that you were getting very far with your task. You could barely see, after all. In fact, you were sobbing so openly and loudly; you didn't hear the quiet flapping of clothing and clap of footfalls on marble that come with someone apparating into appearance.

"You know I, I'm afraid of change. Guess that's why we stay the same..."

You growled in sorrow and frustration at your clumsily packed trunk, slamming down the lid to try and close it; to no avail. You could barely see through your tears, so you could scarcely be expected to notice the small corner of a shirt that was tucked just slightly into the slot where the latch was supposed to slide in. You simply growled and cried in aggravation, slamming it over and over, faster and harder, trying to get the latch to catch in the slot. After a few tries, you gave up. Sliding to floor in anguish and defeat, you brought your legs up and crossed your arms over your knees, tucking your face into your jeans to hide your tear and snot-streaked features. You still can't hear anything over the deafening storm and your own cries, but you know it's Draco when you feel his touch. It's soft, as if he's trying not to frighten you away like you would a feral cat.

Just a gentle stroke of his palm on your hair, and you dare take a glance at his shoes through your arms, before looking up at him through your tears. You can see his expression change when he takes a good look at your face, and you can see the pain in his now sobered eyes. You can tell he's sorry, but that's not enough this time, and you turn your face back into your legs and take a deep, shuddering breath.

"So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road. Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know. 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."

"(Y/N), please..." You can hear his voice cracking, and you want so badly to turn to him and push away his fears. You want to tell him that you won't go anywhere, that you'll always be here, that you'll never let him push you away... But you can't. You don't have it in you right now, and you're not sure if you will again, not this time. For the first time, you find yourself imagining a life without Draco in it. Would you be happier? Would the pain end? You don't think you even remember what it was like before being with Draco, before being a slave to your blind love for him and that scares you half to death.

So you don't say a thing, you simply begin to cry even harder, and that prompts Draco to drop to his knees beside you, enveloping you in his arms and whispering desperate 'I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry's. His chin comes to rest on top of your head, and for a split moment you think the roof has sprung a leak, before you realize it's his tears hitting the top of your head as he cries in earnest.

"I don't know what to do, (Y/N)... I don't know how to fix this... I love you so much..." He chokes back a sob, and you sniffle as you begin to cry even harder.

"Please, please don't leave... I'm so so sorry..."

You stay like that for a few hours, wrapped in his arms while he cries out his apologies into your hair, before you finally cave into him, shushing his sobs and kissing away his tears.

"If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and baby, I'll go. You remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay..."